


Handle With Care

by pigeonmistress



Series: Enterprise Express Delivery [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:46:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonmistress/pseuds/pigeonmistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim makes his usual stop at Mr. Spock's home to deliver a package when he sees that the Vulcan already has his hands full.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handle With Care

**Author's Note:**

> Written in the wee hours of the night (or morning, rather) at the behest of my dearest yeobo. First foray into Star Trek fiction, so sorry for any inaccuracies on characterization or cannon details. Hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Edit: Sequel is posted and the two works are now a series! Thanks for reading!

Out of all the shitty jobs Jim Kirk had worked throughout his life (the number being staggeringly high for someone his age, but Jim was all about setting new standards), this one had to be the best. Typically being a delivery boy wasn’t exactly taxing work, anyone who was semi-literate and had a passable sense of direction could do it, but it didn’t pay well and, surprise, driving around all day turned out to be pretty boring. The only difference between this job and all the jobs he had before it came down to one specific person.

Well, Vulcan.

Jim delivered special orders for the only store in town that imported commodities from off planet, so it wasn’t uncommon for him to deliver to people who weren’t ‘native’. If anything, delivering to someone from Earth was a surprise, since most of the clients used the store to get items that weren’t readily available at your neighborhood supermarket. But this man was different, something about him _captivated_ Jim in a way he couldn’t explain.

It helped that said Vulcan was sex on legs.

Jim typically delivered a small package of various teas and incense to Mr. Spock (Jim had read his name on one of the packages, but had never been successful in pronouncing his full name; there are just some things the human mouth is incapable of pronouncing) once every month. He still remembered driving to the modest home on the outskirts of town, expecting another run of the mill customer as he strolled up to the front door.

The first thing that hit him was the warm fragrance of incense, wafting out of the house as the Vulcan opened the door.

The second being _Spock_ and it nearly knocked all the air from his lungs.

His hair was cut in the typical ridiculous bowl cut that Vulcans seemed to love so much. On Spock it fit perfectly, the tips of his pointed ears peeking out past the smooth, inky black hair that seemed to stay in place by pure force of will. He wore Terran clothes, a black long-sleeved shirt that looked like it was painted onto his body and black pants that left Jim’s mouth watering (especially as Spock turned to shut the door).

But it was his eyes that struck Jim the most. They were a rich, dark brown and framed by a set of thick lashes. Ever other part of the Vulcan screamed order and logic; his eyes seemed to hold something else entirely. Something that made Jim’s blood _burn_.

Jim had failed to actually act on his attraction for the Vulcan and continued to flounder each time he tried to capture Spock’s attention. Admittedly he had tried flirting but it was amazingly difficult when the other party couldn’t understand any of the euphemisms, colloquialisms or sarcasm that Jim so often employed to indicate his interest. Beginning to doubt his skills, Jim tried his patented approach on several other _eager_ test subjects (with quite _positive_ results) and concluded that perhaps Spock just wasn’t interested in _sampling the local cuisine_.

After his last attempt to sweet talk Spock went as all the others had before it, mind-blowingly poor, Jim wasn’t expecting much this time around. Despite his flirting being exceptionally unsuccessful, he found himself excited to see the Vulcan. If he was lucky, one of his more clever jokes would earn him an ever-so-slightly raised eyebrow or a slight crinkle around the corner of Spock’s mouth (though he suspected the source of Spock’s amusement was more along the lines of ‘laughing’ at him, not with him).

As Jim approached Spock’s front door, he noticed something a bit off. Typically the front blinds were always closed when he came by, but this afternoon they were all open. He had never actually seen the inside of the Vulcan’s house, so he peered in through the first window he saw. The room to the right of the door seemed to be where Spock meditated; he could see an altar type area with places to burn incense and what looked like a rug of some kind on the floor.

Instead of immediately ringing the doorbell as he normally did, he decided to indulge his curiosity and see what Spock had in the room on the other side of his foyer. The sidewalk ended at the Vulcan’s front door, but Jim crept on, edging his way into the lawn. It could have been construed as somewhat sketchy, peering through an almost-stranger’s house, but he maintained that he had simply been curious and had intended only a quick peek before delivering the package. He had expected another empty room filled with more Vulcan artifacts or more meditating material. He might have even expected Spock to catch him and scold him in his own monotone, unimpassioned way (which mostly included a lot of passive-aggressive staring and statistics that made Jim uncomfortable).

He definitely had _not_ expected to see Spock reclining on his bed, naked as the day he was born, with a hand working furiously at his cock.

Had Jim been slightly more morally upright (although he wasn’t a _total_ scoundrel) he would have deposited the package on the doorstep and gotten the hell out of dodge. But it seemed that his feet were glued to the spot and his jaw permanently on the ground.

Spock’s cheeks were flushed, a vivid green continuing down onto his neck and chest. Jim felt the urge to mark him, sink his teeth into the junction of his neck and shoulder and suck a mark into that pale skin. His normally perfect hair was completely disheveled, sticking out in all directions and ruffled by Spock’s pillow. His chest had a thick carpet of similar soft black hair that trailed down his abdomen, becoming coarser as it neared his groin. The Vulcan was as deceptively lean and toned as Jim thought he would be. He could see the muscles in his arm work as he stroked himself, his thoughts drifting to Spock holding him against a wall with those same arms, with that impressive Vulcan strength, and fucking him against it. His dick eagerly responded to the idea, rapidly swelling within his confines of his jeans.

Unfortunately, the window muffled any sounds that Spock made, muting his breathy moans and heavy panting. His mind filled in the blanks, adding the familiar sound of flesh against flesh as he hungrily watched Spock’s hand slide against his cock, jutting out from his pelvis proudly and flushed a delicious dark green. It was thick, a mouthful Jim longed to get his hands on. He imagined the way it might taste on his tongue, hot and heavy between his lips and pulsing down the back of his throat.

Jim felt his own dick, already thick and painfully hard, press agonizingly against the zipper of his pants. He palmed it hesitantly, unwilling to outright get himself off in broad daylight but unable to make himself leave. With each stroke of Spock’s hand he felt the blood surge to his cock, unable to block the image of those long, slender fingers around his erection. A choked off groan escaped him at the thought.

Jim watched helplessly as Spock quickly began to speed up, his left hand reaching down to cup his balls as his right moved up and down his length. He could see Spock’s abdominals tighten, fighting off his clearly approaching orgasm. It wasn’t long before the Vulcan’s body went rigid, his entire body as tight as a bow-string as he came in spurts across his stomach. Even through the windowpane Jim could hear the deep, satisfied moan spilling from Spock’s lips as he threw his head against the pillow. Jim’s own cock twitched within his pants, finding the utterly wrecked Vulcan completely irresistible.

Jim finally began to regain some sense of propriety as Spock came down from his orgasm. It was one thing to get caught snooping, but it was an entirely different matter to get caught watching someone get off while sporting a ridiculously obvious erection. He also urgently needed to attend to said erection before he was unable to walk, although he was probably already way too late. As his brain finally began to process the idea of leaving, Spock shifted on his bed. Jim looked back and almost immediately regretted it.

Spock sat up, leaning heavily against the wall, and swiped his fingers across the come on his stomach. He brought fingertips to his mouth slowly before his tongue peeked out from behind his lips to slyly taste the mess on his fingertips, staring directly at him. Jim couldn’t help the moan that escaped him at the sight, before realizing something was off.

Those burning, dark eyes were staring directly at him. _Shit_.

He’d been caught.

Jim panicked, fleeing (as fast as one could with an erection) from the window and nearly tripping over his own feet to get away. He ran to his vehicle, his mortification only increasing when he realized he still had the package in his hands. Jim decided to cut his losses (getting in trouble at work combined with a possible criminal stalking offense was not something he needed at the moment) and get the hell out of there in case Spock decided the criminal justice system was too gentle a punishment for him.

Without further delay, he started the vehicle and quickly sped off down the road, trying desperately to keep his thoughts on driving and not on Spock’s graceful finger’s around his cock or his breathy moans through the windowpane.

 

 

                Spock, still feeling the effects from his orgasm, sat up slowly, using the wall to keep himself upright. Seeing that Jim’s attention was still on him, he reached down to his abdominals and trailed his hand over his skin. Bringing his fingers to his mouth he tasted them, sliding his tongue against the pads of his fingers to lick the remnants of his orgasm.

 He watched Jim, his arousal obvious by his flushed face and heavy breathing. He stared into his eyes, the vibrant blue of his iris almost entirely gone, swallowed by his dilated pupils. Something strange and unfamiliar stirred in his chest. He filed the information away for further examination later.

It took Jim a full minute to realize that Spock had noticed him and was watching him. He immediately fled, taking his package of tea along with him. He successfully resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation.

 Not only had he been unsuccessful in informing Jim of his romantic inclinations, he would also run out of tea in 13 days without the package containing the refills.

He would have to be more manifest whenever Jim returned.


End file.
